This was too great an undertaking. He depreciated his own ability. This
was altogether too big a job. He remembered that Nancy called it
providential, but surely she was mistaken. What could he do with all
that machinery? True, he had successfully managed his father's
one-hundred-acre farm, but this farm was twice as large. There were
likewise oxen on the place, and he had never handled a yoke of oxen.
No; he would take the night boat home. Surely something more suitable
would turn up.

He almost regretted having seen the advertisement. However,
notwithstanding his lack of self-confidence, he presented to Mr. Quintin
the letter which the preacher in New York had given him to be delivered
to that gentleman.

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Quintin as he read, "this is from one of our best
boys; you know him, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ah, Charlie is as true as steel, Charlie is."

"He says better words of you, Mr. Quintin," remarked Billy.

"Indeed! What does he say?"

"He says you are true as gold."

"Well, I doubt whether that is better. That is Charlie's way of showing
his appreciation. But steel is better than gold. I don't know of any
useful thing made of gold; but what could we do without steel?"